Gods and goddesses
by Laputian-Blackwriter
Summary: In exchange for a lifetime of servitude, Harry gains the power to defeat Voldemort, and becomes a dark avenging vigilante. But is Harry content to remain a slave, even to the gods?


The icy snow gnawed at his face as the wind howled over him. His fingers felt numb – heck his whole body was numb. Even behind the several layers of winter clothing, Harry knew that if he were to stop or pass out, he would most definitely freeze to death.

But he needed to make this journey. Not just for Sirius, but for all of his friends, who risked Voldemort's wrath just for being associated with him. He had seen the whole summer, what inactivity would do – Voldemort was on a rampage, and without any hope countless innocents had suffered. It would only be a matter of time before he began picking off those closest to him, one by one. Who would he begin with first? Hermione? Ron? Neville?

He had dove into books, and knew what he was doing was forbidden, even if the stories were ridiculed as false. If they were legends, he was wasting his time here, but if they weren't? Power to defeat Voldemort. Perhaps the power he knew not.

A hazy ring formed around his vision as his muscles protested against being pushed beyond their limits. Yet he was close – so close! If he was right, then it would be around here somewhere…

He reached into his pack and grasped his wand, pulling it out and pointing it ahead of him. All around him was snow, the blizzard made it impossible to see anything. But with this…

Harry slowly began drawing a symbol in the air with his wand, remembering the shape which was seared into his brain. It was impossible to forget, the symbol was so vivid he could almost see it floating in front of him, although that could be due to exhaustion-induced delirium.

Many wizards had attempted this, and had come back with nothing. However, for Harry, it worked perfectly.

The wand in his hand began to vibrate, so violently that with his numb fingers he lost his grip and cursed as it slipped into the snow – however as it fell it emitted a beam of brilliant pale green light, shooting across the air in an arc.

Harry watched in astonishment as the beam stopped, and began making a fiery green imprint in the snow – an imprint of an intricately carved door.

He picked up his wand, taking care not to drop it again. The beam had stopped yet the door had remained. Reaching out a hand, Harry made out to touch it, but instead found it passed straight through.

Slowly gathering his Gryffindor courage, he let himself go into the portal.

He exited the other side into a dark hallway. As he walked down the steps, torches on either side burst to life, and he nearly screamed as he found himself face to face with a large, stone warrior, eyes narrowed directly at him.

Harry reached out a finger and touched it. _It's only a statue. _Going around it, he walked down the hallway, each step echoing through the massive cavern as he gazed around – on the walls were distinctly intricate carvings of odd runes and symbols. The air inside here was humid, and Harry decided to shed his coat, dropping it on the ground.

Bad idea.

As soon as the coat hit the ground, the supposedly still stone warrior burst to life, moving faster than he could react. Before he even had the chance to utter a spell a sword had been raised to his neck.

There was the sound of a woman laughing behind him. "For someone who took the time to search out my chambers, you must have been profoundly foolish to ignore the warnings of…potential obstacles. Be happy I allowed you to pass unscathed through them, Harry Potter."

Harry inhaled sharply. "You know my name?"

"I know many things, Harry. Now turn around and face me."

The stone warrior withdrew its blade, and Harry spun around to see an extraordinarily beautiful and voluptuous woman standing before him. It was almost impossible to make out what age she was – though he would have guessed forty or fifty, it was equally likely she could be twenty or thirty. There was no sign of age or wrinkling, and despite her face's maturity there was also an aspect of youthful freshness in it. Black locks cascaded down to her shoulders, and her tanned skin perfectly complimented her electric blue eyes.

Hecate, goddess of magic, regarded him coolly. "I am rather disappointed, I must say. Though I don't expect miracles, even as a fifteen year old on the verge of turning sixteen you are pathetically scrawny. And not particularly well-endowed either."

Harry blushed red as he realized what she was talking about, hands protectively moving over his pants.

"It's a wonder you've survived this far," Hecate commented. "Now, why do you seek the goddess of magic and water?"

Harry gulped down his nervously, somehow managing to find the calm to answer in a still voice. "I seek the power and knowledge to defeat Voldemort."

Hecate rolled her eyes. "As I expected. You know Harry Potter; I have no interest at all in the affairs of those gifted with magic. That was my predecessor. So shaken when she realized the pomposity of wizards, and so regretful that she gave humans magic that she couldn't even put up a proper fight when I defeated her. I was rather disappointed, if it was that easy, anyone could become divine, not that it matters, since I killed all the others."

Harry blinked – this wasn't how he thought a god came into being. And gods could die? "What's your point?"

"My point is that frankly I don't give a damn what happens in the world of wizards," Hecate stated bluntly. "It doesn't make me any weaker or stronger what happens to them, I remain unchanged and immortal. So why should I give you what you require?"

"Because in return I give you me," Harry replied. "A lifetime of servitude."

Hecate regarded him yet again, and the seconds ticked by slowly before she spoke. "Fascinating. A wizard that actually offers devotion to a divine being. The other one who came seemed to think himself above mortality."  
"Voldemort came here?"

"Of course, but I knew his intentions before he even set foot here. He had no qualms about giving up his soul – except of course that I knew the deal required a complete soul, which he did not have. Perhaps he tried to trick me. But this…is an interesting prospect. You see I have heard much about you Harry Potter, and what happened. And if what I think is true…"

Green tendrils of magic snaked around him, probing at his skin.

"Yes…it is as I thought. You subconsciously influence the flow of magic itself! The power to influence it to change probability…yes, you will be an enjoyable servant. Very well then, if you wish…" Hecate withdrew her magic, stepping forward, and Harry felt probes begin to enter his mind. He let them pass through his flimsy Occlumency shields as she rapidly sifted through his thoughts and memories – it was like his whole life had flashed before his eyes in a second.

"Good. And how noble you are…" Hecate licked her lips. "Yes. You shall be my servant. The wizards are merely toys for me, and you shall be the one to break them. It will be suitable entertainment – now step forward Harry Potter."

Harry stepped forward with steely determination, as a circle of magic formed around them.

"Do you pledge yourself to me, Hecate, goddess of magic and water, to serve me fully and willingly, until the end of your days?"

"I do."

"Good." A flash of energy passed through them, and Harry hissed in pain as a runic mark burnt onto his forearm, making him hers. "It is done."

"That's all?" Harry asked in confusion.

"I'm not one for dramatics. Now for your reward…"

Harry suddenly felt himself burst into blue flames as he dropped onto the ground, screaming in unbridled agony. Every part of him was roaring in pain, like he was being burnt and seared from the inside out.

There was a sickening crunching sound as his bones, muscles and organs began to dissolve, as did his skin, being replaced, changing, into something new, something better. His glasses vanished, his hair ripped out of his head and burnt up as well – new hair began sprouting from the roots, new muscles grew in place of the old, and new veins pumped new blood, blood which literally sparked with magic.

The last embers of flame died, and Harry stood up, feeling none of the previous pain. His body felt – strange. It felt whole, new, and alien. He looked around, seeing the world with perfect clarity, senses buzzing with crystal precision. Harry had dropped his wand whilst this happened – he picked it up, and in place of his holly and phoenix, the wood was a polished red. With a thought however he placed an illusion changing it back to its original design.

He flicked it when he realized he was naked, and clothed himself in simple black robes, almost laughing. It was so easy! He didn't need to even say a spell, all he had to do was think what he wanted and it happened!

"Bow before me, Harry Potter."

The new Harry turned around, hesitating briefly before doing so.

Hecate flicked her hand as the sound of a cracking whip echoed through the hallway – Harry hissed in pain as a red welt appeared on his back. "There will be no hesitation as you bow, Harry Potter."

"As you wish…mistress." The title came almost automatically.

Hecate smirked. "Excellent. Now your task is thus. Kill Ronald Weasley."

…This was not what he was expecting. "What?" He cried out, attempting to stand up – there was a burst of energy and he winced as the magic compelled him to remain bowed. "You liar! You said you would give me the power to defeat Voldemort!"

"I have," Hecate answered with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Though your pitiful human mortality could not handle it all, and it may take some time to fully assimilate. But you forget the second part of our agreement. You are mine, Harry Potter, for the rest of your life. And do not forget, I am divine…I can stretch your lifetime far beyond its normal means."

A hint of fear passed through Harry's eyes. This deal looked like it was far from worth it.

"And remember, Harry Potter…you are not all-powerful. You are still mortal and fallible. I can still crush you like a bug should I choose. Do not betray me, or you will find an eternity of torture," Hecate hissed darkly. "Once you have completed the task I have given you, only then will I release the information you seek."

-G-

There was a distinct crack as Harry reappeared in an alleyway in muggle London, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. The sensations of disapparation were too uneasy for him, and he knew he needed to find another method of transportation, though it was fascinating how easily it came even without practice.

He sat in a bathtub, in the most luxurious hotel suite in muggle London, contemplating his fate. To kill one of his best friends… was it worth the power to kill Voldemort? Ron had been there for him, and while he wasn't always consistent he was one of the people he could trust. There had to be something he could do!

But he knew that if Voldemort was not stopped, more people could die. Was the death of one friend worth the death of so many others?

His hand tightened into a fist as he got out, looking at himself in the mirror for the first time since his transformation.

Harry had shot up and bulked up. There wasn't an ounce of baby fat left. His hair had lengthened and become slightly wavy, and his lightning scar, his connection to Voldemort, had vanished. He had also bulked up as well, yet his muscles were so exceptionally sculpted he doubted they would slow down his speed at all.

He cancelled the illusion on his new wand, turning it over in his fingers. It felt right, yet he knew it was a symbol of his slavery.

After Sirius' death, he had sworn to find the power to destroy Voldemort for good. And so he had dove into every possible book he could find, even the darkest and most arcane, using rare and antiquated tomes and journals which he knew even Voldemort had never put his hands on, thanks to the well-guarded Black library. He had managed to steal away several of the oldest.

Now he was here.

Harry stepped out of the tub, drying himself off and transfiguring clothes for himself with a flick.

He knew Hecate had commanded this to mock him, knowing he couldn't do anything about it, but could he? The primordial essence of Magic had come into being long before gods and goddesses walked the Earth.

He would accomplish his goal, he would kill Ron. But he would find a way to bring him back as well – there had to be a way. If Voldemort could defy death even with his ignorance of Magic's true state, then surely he could, with his new power.

It was a slave's power – but Harry knew he would not remain a slave for long. He would find a way to do the impossible, something not done since even the beginning of Magic's existence.

A human would acquire the power of a god.


End file.
